The Bet
by Voyager Tip
Summary: When Mark is stabbed during a case, he is surprised and angry when Hardcastle decides to let the criminal get away.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 The Knife

Mark saw the knife out of the corner of his eye just before he felt the blade hit his abdomen with full force. He doubled over and grunted as his attacker pulled the blade out and ran. He reached for the nearby wall to steady himself.

"Go" he called to Hardcastle and motioned with his hand toward the door, "get im."

"Are you?" the judge's tone was uncertain.

"Go now, I'm alright!" Mark shouted as he straightened up.

Milton Hardcastle stared at his partner for few seconds before he started for the doorway. He'd seen the man push the 3 inch long knife blade into McCormick's abdomen and had rushed toward him, too late to prevent the injury. He'd kept his hands on Mark's shoulders as he stood up, but the kid hadn't needed help. His hand covered the wound, but that was just about the only clue that he'd just been stabbed.

Now, Milt paused at the doorway, and looked back at McCormick. In truth, he still didn't look too bad. He was on his feet, and the bleeding from the wound had stopped.

"Go… he's getting away!" Mark yelled again, urgency in his voice. Then, in the time it took for one heartbeat, Hardcastle's shoulders relaxed and drooped and he starting walking toward his friend.

"You need to lay down," he said as he put a hand on Mark's shoulder, and forced him to sit down on an overturned crate.

Mark's jaw dropped open in surprise. This was the man who had set him up as the bait in too many sting operations to remember. "You're letting him get away!"

Milt kept his hand on Mark's shoulder as the silence stretched on between them, until it was broken by sirens and the screech of brakes.

"Milt, are you two okay?" Frank Harper's voice came from outside the window high on the basement wall.

"We need an ambulance, McCormick was stabbed."

"I don't need an ambulance, judge I'm fine, and you're letting him get away!" Mark repeated loudly.

"There's one on the way," Frank called from outside.

"He already got away," Hardcastle told his friend and Mark started to rise again. "Hey, I said you should be laying down, at least sitting."

Mark shook his head in disbelief. "Judge, I know I got stabbed, I understand that, but can you understand that I'm fine… and you let him get away?"

Frank entered the basement room and glanced around as Milt replied, "I know that, just relax until you get checked out."

Mark looked at Frank in disgust and shook his head, "do you believe this? For a month we've been trying to nail him, and we had him just now!"

"If you think I'm getting in the middle of this, you're nuts," Frank answered in a tone that let Mark know the subject was closed as far as he was concerned.

"We'll get him eventually," Hardcastle told him.

"You wanted to get him today! What's wrong with you!" Mark yelled.

Hardcastle sat down beside him on the crate, his arm across the ex cons back, his hand resting on his opposite shoulder. "We'll get him," he repeated softly.

McCormick shook his head in disbelief. The world suddenly seemed upside down.

A moment later, the ambulance arrived, and Mark eased himself from the crate onto the gurney without help, keeping his hand clamped tightly over his abdomen. "This ambulance is gonna cost a lot of money judge, and it's not necessary."

"Don't you ever give that mouth a rest?" Hardcastle answered.

"And Barton got away!" Mark shouted again, and then leaned back on the stretcher and closed his eyes for a second. The pain in his abdomen had been increasing, and it suddenly seemed worse than it had been. He groaned as the gurney bumped into the side of the narrow stairway as they exited the basement.

Hardcastle followed the gurney outside and stopped next to Mark as the medics opened the ambulance doors. He touched Mark's shoulder and whispered, "You lay still, ya hear? I'll see ya at the hospital."

Mark lay back and stared at the ceiling of the ambulance as it sped through the city streets. As the adrenaline rush wore off, he felt a bit dizzy, and the pain in his abdomen was continuing to get worse. It probably was a good idea to just lie still, like Hardcastle had told him. He couldn't believe the old donkey hadn't gone after Barton. They had spent the last two weeks laying this trap and they had him, they'd been close enough for their fists to connect and unfortunately, the knife, but the knife shouldn't have mattered. Hardcase could've caught him if he'd tried. This case should be over. After all, that was what the Lone Ranger did, wasn't it? Why hadn't he? Mark couldn't seem to reconcile that with everything he knew about the man. It couldn't have been because Mark had been stabbed, could it? The wound hadn't bled that much and he hadn't even felt that bad right afterward, though he had to admit he didn't much feel like standing up at the moment. But, right after he'd gotten stabbed, it hadn't been too bad. The judge really should have left him to go after Barton.

As the pain worsened, his mind focused on the ambulance ride. It seemed to be taking a very long time to get to the hospital, and he now realized that he was looking forward to having a doctor look at the wound and fix him up. He didn't feel well at all.


	2. At The Hospital

Chapter 2 At The Hospital

Milt Hardcastle parked himself in a plastic chair in the waiting room of the Emergency Department of St. Mary's Hospital. It had been about an hour since they'd brought McCormick in and he wasn't surprised to see the doors swing open and the doctor ask about McCormick's family. He approached and introduced himself, and was led into a small conference room to hear the report.

"How is he?" Hardcastle asked bluntly, a stony expression on his face but worry in his voice.

"The knife punctured the abdominal cavity, so we'll need to operate to check for internal injuries. He's already got an elevated white blood cell count and low grade fever, so I'm betting the knife nicked the bowel at least. Once we take a look inside, we can fix whatever was damaged."

"He'll be okay?"

"Most likely, we need to take a look to be sure. I've started antibiotics, he's already got a pretty good infection going." The doctor paused, "you can see him for a few minutes before we bring him up to surgery."

Hardcastle nodded and followed the doctor through the crowded hallway of the ER to a cubicle. He entered and saw Mark laying on a bed staring at him.

"How ya feelin?" Hardcastle asked, his stomach in a knot.

"Okay," Mark answered at first, then seemed to reconsider. "I've been better."

"You'll be all right as soon as they fix you up."

"Yeah."

"Ya got stabbed, ya can't expect to feel normal."

"You may as well say it and be done," Mark answered angrily.

"What?"

"I messed things up."

"What're you talking about?" Milt asked.

"You shoulda gone after him, but I got hurt so you didn't."

"This isn't an argument ya know," Hardcastle returned.

"All I know is we didn't catch him, because of me."

"You're more important than any criminal McCormick," Hardcastle told him.

Mark paused, "I am?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.

"Course, what do you think?"

"What do I think? I think you're acting kind of weird. First you wouldn't go after Barton, and now you say I'm more important than catching criminals?"

Hardcastle just stared at him and sighed, "guess I am," he whispered.

"You wouldn't even admit you were worried about me when you had to shoot me!"

The judge chuckled, "I almost did."

"You were gonna leave, you were at the door. I watched you, I told you to go!"

"I was gonna leave, but I couldn't. I had to make sure you were okay."

Mark's anger dissolved and he sighed and shifted position painfully and groaned. Hardcastle quickly put a hand on his shoulder, "try to lay still," he whispered.

After a moment to catch his breath, Mark spoke in a soft voice. "Better be careful Hardcase, someone might think you actually care about me."

"Think so?"

"Maybe."

A nurse entered the cubicle and walked around to the opposite side of the bed as she spoke. "I'm sorry sir but it's time we get him up to the OR, you'll have to leave now."

"See ya in a bit," Hardcastle said as he squeezed Mark's shoulder. He walked up to the OR waiting room, thinking that one of these days he should tell McCormick that he did care… a lot.


	3. The Bet

Chapter 3 The Bet

Three hours later, the surgeon came out to speak to him.

"How bad was the damage?" Hardcastle asked.

"The knife nicked the bowel pretty good. He's got peritonitis, an infection in the abdominal cavity. That's the main problem. I've started him on 2 broad spectrum antibiotics to fight the infection, but he's not going to feel very well for a few days.

"He should be okay then?" Hardcastle asked.

"We need to beat the infection first, once we do that, he'll recover fine."

H&M

Mark opened his eyes slowly. He felt a sharp pain in the lower part of his abdomen and his head felt like he was under water. Someone was speaking to him, but he couldn't quite make out the words. He looked where the sound was coming from and his eyes met the blue eyes of the judge.

"Hey kiddo, how ya doin?" Hardcastle asked again. He could see the kid trying to focus on him, but wasn't sure he'd been heard the first time he spoke.

"Judge? That you?" Mark's voice was weak and the judge had to lean close to make out what was said.

"Yeah, it's me kiddo. How ya doin?"

"I feel awful."

The simple sentence, spoken so softly, and without any of McCormick's usual cockiness, spoke volumes to Hardcastle. He could tell the kid felt miserable, and knew it would be a long day.

Milt put his hand on McCormick's shoulder and squeezed it. "I know you feel rotten right now, but they're giving you medicine to fight the infection. You're gonna start feeling better soon." Even though his voice was comforting, his stomach was tied up in knots as he realized how warm Mark's shoulder felt, even through the hospital gown. He moved his hand to touch his cheek with the backs of his fingers before he rested his palm on Mark's forehead.

Mark nodded tiredly, "I hope you're right."

H&M

Hardcastle stayed with Mark through the long afternoon and into the evening. At 7:30 pm there was a knock on the door and Frank Harper entered.

"Hey Mark," he said.

"Hi," McCormick whispered. It hurt less if he spoke softly.

"I thought you'd like to know that we captured Barton about 10 minutes ago."

"That's good," Milt responded, "I bet Decker and Sheehan are laughing their fool heads off."

"I'm sorry judge," Mark whispered.

"Stop that! I told you it's not your fault," Milt said sternly.

"What's that about?" Frank asked.

"We had a bet with Decker and Sheehan that we could capture Barton before they did," Milt explained.

Frank paused. "Barton led them into an abandoned warehouse on the west side. When they got inside," Frank paused for effect, "it blew up. There was a bomb."

"A trap?" Mark asked softly.

Frank nodded. "Bill Decker's dead, John Sheehan's in surgery. We captured Barton outside the warehouse. So I guess it's a lucky thing you didn't go after him."


	4. It's Another Sonny Daye

Chapter 4 It's Another Sonny Daye

Milt left the hospital when visiting hours were over and headed home. He was in the den at about 10 pm when the doorbell rang. When he opened the door, he found Sonny Daye standing on his front step.

"Hiya judge. I came by this afternoon but you weren't at home."

"Uh," Milt stumbled over the greeting in total surprise, "come in Sonny, what brings you out here?"

"I came to see Mark, no one's in the Gatehouse, is he here?"

"Come into the kitchen and sit down."

Hardcastle explained the events of the day as he prepared coffee.

"I should go see him now," Sonny said immediately after he finished.

"Visiting hours are over and he's exhausted. He couldn't keep his eyes open before I left. He's probably sound asleep by now."

"You were with him?"

"Yeah."

"All day?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm his father, I should get to see him."

"I'll ask him first thing tomorrow."

"You'll ask him? What, I'm not good enough to see my own kid?" Sonny argued loudly.

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean then?"

"Just that he's feeling pretty rotten and I don't know if he'll want visitors."

"You'll be there, right? You're a visitor!"

"I'll ask him," Milt repeated.

"I'm not just a visitor you know! I'm his father, he'll want to see me!"

The judge shrugged, "I'll call him in the morning and ask."

H&M

At 6 am, Milt picked up the phone on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi judge, it's me."

"Kiddo, how're you feeling?"

"The same, pretty much." The voice sounded distant, weary.

"You should be feeling a lot better by now."

"The doctor was just here, he's gonna try another antibiotic. Look, I'm not gonna be much company again, but can you stop in today anyway?"

"Course I'll be there, as soon as they open the doors."

"Thanks judge."

"Listen kiddo, Sonny dropped by last night. I told him what happened and he wants to see you."

"Sonny?" Mark whispered in disbelief. Normally he'd be happy to have any contact with his father, but now, all he could feel was dread. He didn't want to let Sonny see him like this. "I don't wanna see him judge."

"You sure?"

The response was soft. "Yeah I'm sure. Look, tell him I'd normally want to see him, but I just feel horrible and it wouldn't be a good visit."

"I don't think he expects you to entertain him."

"Just tell him judge… okay?"

"Yeah, I'll tell him kiddo. I'll see you at 8."

"Thanks."


	5. Questions

Chapter 5 Questions

"I can't believe my own kid doesn't want to see me. Are you sure?" Sonny asked.

"I told you everything he said," Hardcastle finished. "How long have you been in the area?"

Sonny hesitated, "well, you have to understand I've been busy."

"How long?" Hardcastle pressed.

"A week."

"It's a shame you didn't stop by sooner."

"Look, I don't have to get to the airport until 1 o'clock, I'd like to come to the hospital anyway, how about if you find out what's going on and meet me at 10 for a late breakfast and let me know what's happening before I head back?"

The judge nodded and they both headed out to the car.

H&M

Sonny glanced at Hardcastle as they drove through the city traffic. "I don't get it," he finally said.

"Don't get what?"

"Well, I can understand why the kid wants to be with you, you let him live in the Gatehouse, on a beautiful estate, you're rich and powerful, you have a lot of important contacts, I mean, it's pretty obvious there are a lot of possibilities there."

"Possibilities? Are you saying you think McCormick is trying to con me?" Milt growled.

"Well, I'm sure it's crossed your mind hasn't it?"

"No, it hasn't crossed my mind!" he spat out. Actually it had crossed his mind long ago, but he didn't want to admit that to Sonny.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Sonny backpedaled nervously, "I'm just sayin…I can understand why Mark would stick around with you, that's all. What I don't understand is why you would want to be around him. I know he works for you an all, but, you treat him different than any employer ever treated me. He's just an ex con judge, that's always gonna be on his record, what could be in it for a guy like you?"

Milt tried to control his anger. He didn't want to dignify that question with any response. "Get out," he barked as he pulled into the hospital parking space and opened the door. They walked inside together and Milt headed to the elevator. "I'll see you at 10 in the coffee shop."

Hardcastle punched the button for the 5th floor and his anger at Sonny's comments was replaced by worry. The kid hadn't sounded too good this morning on the phone. He'd been counting on Mark feeling better today. Then he remembered the scariest part of the call, Mark had asked him to visit. He couldn't think of any reason for Mark to admit he wanted him to be at the hospital, except for something serious, maybe dire.


	6. From Bad To Worse

Chapter 6 From Bad To Worse

"Hey kiddo," Milt whispered as he stood beside the bed. McCormick's eyes were half closed. He reached out and rested his hand on Mark's forehead, it felt hot.

"Hi," Mark whispered.

"I'm gonna talk to the nurses kid, I want to know what's going on." He found a nurse at the desk. "I have a question about Mark McCormick, is there someone I can talk to?" he asked.

"Doctor Ross was just here, he's transferring him to the ICU as soon as there's a bed ready," the nurse answered his worried question.

"He's in a bad way in there," the judge told her, his concern was evident and the nurse spoke in a gentle tone.

"The antibiotics aren't working as well as we'd like on the infection. We'll be transferring him as soon as we can, you could help by keeping him company, he told me you'd be coming in and it seemed to mean a lot. I think it would help if you stayed with him."

Milt could feel his heart pounding. This was bad. Things were moving in slow motion, from bad to worse, and he couldn't seem to stop them. He headed back to the room, determined to be there for his friend.

Mark was in the same position, his eyes still half open.

"They're gonna put you in intensive care pretty soon."

"Yeah, I guess they told me."

Hardcastle paused for a moment, then spoke, "I'll be staying with you until you feel better." There was no reason to wait for Mark to ask again, he needed to save his energy.

"You knew, didn't ya," Mark whispered.

"Knew what?"

"That I'd end up pretty sick… that's why you didn't go after Barton."

"I was afraid you'd try to follow me and make it even worse."

"I would've too... guess that means I saved your life…kinda."

"How do you figure that?" Milt asked in surprise.

"If you went after Barton, you mighta gotten blown up."

Hardcastle gave Mark a crooked smile, he might be sick, but Mark could still think straight. "You're probably right."

"You probably saved mine too, by keeping me from moving too much."

Milt moved his hand to Mark's forehead and pushed his hair back as the ex con moved slightly in bed and groaned. "It's so hot," he whispered.

"You're gonna be okay, just hang in there." He knew his voice sounded gruff, and he wanted it to sound more comforting, but how did you sound comforting when you were scared to death?

H&M

It wasn't too long before Milt was following the bed as they wheeled it through the corridors and up to the ICU. He stood in the waiting room and looked at the clock, 9:45 am. It was going to be another long day.

He punched the intercom and told the secretary he would be gone for a while, then headed down to the coffee shop to meet Sonny.


	7. There's Always An Angle

Chapter 7 Everyone Has An Angle

Sonny was sitting at a corner table in the hospital cafeteria when Milt joined him.

"So, what's the news, he wants to see me, right?" Sonny began.

"They just moved him into intensive care."

"But, he wants to see me, right?"

Milt felt his heartbeat quicken, but tried to answer calmly. "The subject didn't come up."

"Didn't you tell him I was here?"

Milt shook his head, "there was a lot going on."

"I don't believe you Hardcastle! What right do you have... " Sonny blurted out.

"Sonny!" Hardcastle interrupted him, "intensive care is where they put you when they don't know if…" He stopped himself, there was no way he wanted to consider that. He paused and started again, "he's feeling miserable Sonny, the infection is getting worse, they can't get the fever down, and he needs to rest. He didn't ask about you so I didn't bring it up. He's got enough going on."

Sonny stared at Hardcastle for a long moment. "He's real sick then?" he finally asked.

"Yeah."

Silence.

"Okay, but since you didn't answer my question earlier, I'll ask it again. Why would you care about someone like him?"

"Someone like him? What do you mean by that?" Hardcastle struggled to keep his temper under control. This was Mark's father, and even though the kid didn't want to see him now, he didn't want to get the man angry enough to leave and not come back. Mark might want to see him when he felt better.

Sonny smiled knowingly, "he's an ex con judge."

"I know what he is; you don't have to tell me."

"You can't tell me that you actually care about him, there has to be something else," Sonny returned. "You came with him from LA to Atlantic City, no normal friend would do that. And you went ballistic when I wouldn't agree to break into that safe. I just can't figure out your angle."

"There's no angle Sonny, I care about him."

"There's always an angle Hardcastle."

"If you'd get to know him, you'd understand."

"So you still aren't gonna tell me?"

Milt stared at the singer for a long moment, then he made up his mind and stood up. "Have a nice flight Sonny. Call me so I can let you know how he's doing. I think he'd like to know that you cared enough to call." And with that, Sonny also rose and both men went their separate ways.


	8. Being There

Chapter 8 Being There

It was a long day. Hardcastle spent the better part of every hour in the ICU waiting room. When he could, he sat with Mark and held his hand, or stood by the bed so he could lean down and talk to him. At 5 pm, Milt entered the small cubicle again and walked to the bedside.

"Hey judge," Mark greeted him softly. It was the first time he'd spoken since early in the morning.

Milt smiled, "feeling better kiddo?" he asked.

"A little, yeah," was the soft reply. "Thanks for being here, I know it hasn't been a fun day for you."

Milt's smile got bigger, "you couldn't keep me away. You know that, don't ya?"

"It means a lot," Mark said quietly.

"I have a feeling you're gonna be gettin better pretty fast now," Milt said, happiness evident in his tone and his smile.

"I can't wait to feel better," Mark whispered.

"You don't have to talk, just rest and save your strength," Milt told him as he took a seat beside the bed.

Mark sighed contentedly and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, he was dozing and the judge stood up to look at him. He reached out and put his hand on Mark's forehead, as though he needed more evidence that he was finally improving. His skin felt warm and dry, and Milt nodded and stroked his cheek quickly before he sat back down.

It was 2 hours later when Mark next opened his eyes. Milt was still sitting next to the bed, the strict visiting rules of 10 minutes every hour had been suspended when Mark's fever broke and his condition stabilized.

"I'm hungry," Mark said.

"Why am I not surprised?" Hardcastle started out sarcastically, in a gruff tone, but couldn't help but smile and chuckle afterwards as he shook his head.

Mark smiled too, touched by his friend's reaction. Then his eyes twinkled as he spoke, "you were worried about me, weren't you? Come on, admit it?" he dared the judge.

Milton Hardcastle sobered immediately, the smile disappeared. Visions of the knife being pushed into McCormick flashed in his mind. He knew too much about stab wounds. He knew they could kill right away or they could take a long time to be fatal. His emotions had been torn apart since he saw that knife go into his closest friend, the man he'd come to think of as a son. He suddenly felt dizzy, his face became dangerously pale. He quickly sat down on the chair beside the bed and leaned down so his head was close to his knees.

"Judge, what's wrong?" Mark's worried voice cut through his thoughts. "Are you okay?"

The dizziness passed quickly, but Milt didn't want to stand again.

"Yeah kiddo," Milt whispered. Then he took a deep breath and spoke more loudly, "I'm fine kiddo."

"What happened, are you sure? You looked worse than I feel? Should I call the nurse?"

"No, I'm fine...really."

"What happened just now? You were white as a sheet!"

"I guess everything just kind of caught up with me. It's nothing."

"Nothing?... caught up with you?" Mark echoed, then realization dawned. The judge really had been very worried about him. Mark shook his head, it was hard to believe, but it seemed to be true. The knowledge that Hardcastle cared so much made him feel warm inside and he smiled.

"Yeah, well, when you got stabbed, I guess my world suddenly got really small, just you and me. All I've done since then is pray and worry." He paused and neither one of them spoke. Hardcastle glanced at the kid and decided to finally tell him the truth. "The truth is, I don't know what I'd do without you kiddo. I don't mind telling you I was pretty scared."

Mark stared at the great man he had come to care so much about, to think of as both best friend and family. "I feel the same way judge. Thanks for telling me."

Hardcastle sighed, "I think I messed up with Sonny though. I tried to be nice, but I don't think I always came across that way."

"He knows you judge, you robbed a safe together remember? I'm sure he just thought you were being your normal, pleasant self. So, where is he?"

Milt's stomach tightened. He hadn't meant to bring up Mark's father and open old wounds. "He came to the hospital...stayed as long as he could...his plane took off early this afternoon."

"Just as well, I still don't feel like seeing him... hey, know what?" Mark asked.

"What?" Milt was pleasantly surprised by the contented tone of Mark's voice.

"I'm still hungry, and I think you should eat something too."

"Now you're cookin," Hardcastle said with a smile. "Unfortunately, it's only ice chips for you." He reached for a cup and spoon and fed him a small piece of ice.

Mark swallowed the water as the ice melted in his mouth. "Thanks," he whispered. After a pause he continued with a grin, "How many ways can you cook an ice chip judge?"

The End


End file.
